


if i could, i would feel nothing

by SunshineBomb



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 乐华七子NEXT | NEX7, 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Depression, Did I mention angst, Drabble, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Justin is mentioned like once, One Shot, also stan nine percent, basically just a sad character study, cheng's a sadboi, chengcheng is a music student, he's sad, hey kids stan nex7, i'M SAD, sadboi hours are open, title from a blackbear song, word vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-24 22:49:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17713127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunshineBomb/pseuds/SunshineBomb
Summary: "if i could, i would feel nothing. that's the truth and i don't care." - blackbear





	if i could, i would feel nothing

**Author's Note:**

> was listening to my sadboi playlist at a very early hour of the morning and this happened
> 
> not really beta read (apologies for any typos or what have you)

The flat was empty when Chengcheng arrived. Justin was probably out at a party and wouldn’t be back until the early hours of the morning, which Chengcheng was slightly grateful for. As much as he loved his best friend and flatmate, there were times when he needed peace and quiet, which was near impossible to get whenever the younger boy was around.   
Chengcheng cautiously walked to his room, leaving the lights off, using the city lights streaming through the open window to find his way in the dark room. He flipped on the dim desk light and threw his notebooks onto the desk before collapsing on his unmade bed. He laid there, looking up at the ceiling and listening to the sounds of the city below. Sirens and car horns blared from the streets, clashing with the dull pounding of bass from the club across the street and the shouting from the flat above his own. It was maddening. Sitting up, Chengcheng turned on his Bluetooth speaker sitting on his desk, amongst the clutter. He hit shuffle on the first playlist he found and threw his phone aside. The music didn’t completely drown out the other mass of noises, but it was enough to make it a little better.   
Chengcheng got up to sit down at his desk. He had an assignment he had to revise by that Monday, which gave him an entire weekend, but he knew it would take him all that time to finish it. Taking a deep breath, he flipped open his music composition notebook and began to read over his professor’s comments, heart sinking a little with each one he read. 

“WEAK,” one read. “You’re supposed to be writing music, Mr. Fan, not noise. You can do better.” One after another, they all said more or less the same thing, telling him a certain section of the song was weak, the instrumentation didn’t make sense, etc.  
He flipped to the next page, to the lyrics, and immediately shut the notebook. The entire page was more or less covered in red, covering most of what Chengcheng had written. He ran his hands over his face, resisting the urge to scream. He had spent months working on that song, writing and rewriting tirelessly, and pulling way too many all-nighters just to make sure it was perfect. He had felt good about it, even showing it to older music majors to get their opinions, and all of them had positive things to say. At this point, based on everything the professor had written, Chengcheng would have to completely scrap it and start all over.   
He had been in this position too many times. Nothing he ever did was good enough to meet anyone’s expectations, especially when compared to his sister. His sister was the textbook example of perfection, scoring A’s on every assignment, graduating at the top of her class, becoming a successful film actress. He was just her younger brother, living in her shadow and being held to higher standards than everyone else simply because he was expected to be like his sister. He didn’t resent her for any of it, but he wanted others to realise that he wasn’t her.  
Chengcheng turned his attention to the music filtering through his speaker. It was soft, smooth vocals layered over heavy bass and a piano part. He found it interesting how the piano fit so well with a hip-hop beat. They were two things that, from a classical standpoint, shouldn’t go together, yet they went together perfectly. His mind wandered to his assignment again, and the one moment of feeling okay was gone, replaced with anxiety and dread.   
If only for a couple minutes, he couldn’t let himself think about the assignment. It would just continue to plague his mind and make him anxious, and being in that type of mindset wouldn’t do anything to help.   
Chengcheng stood up and made his way to his window, which had been left open, allowing for the city noises to become magnified and a cool breeze to drift into the room. He ducked through the window to sit on the fire escape right outside. He stuck his legs through the bars of the railing, letting them dangle over the edge. Leaning his head against the railing, he looked down. From five stories up, the cars and people below looked miniscule, bustling around like ants. Even though it was late at night, everything was bright. Parties were in full swing, nightclubs were just opening, it seemed as though not one window in the city was dark, apart from Chengcheng’s. A small part of him wanted to be a part of everything happening around him. It seemed so inviting, he just wanted to jump over the railing and join it. No stress over school and expectations, no worrying about anything, just living.   
For a second, he actually thought of jumping. It was only a second, a fleeting thought, but it scared him. It wasn’t the first time he’d had thoughts like this, but it was terrifying every time he did. He would lose control of his usually single-track thoughts, and above anything else, he hated loss of control. He scrambled away from the railing, and back through the window, shutting it on his way back in. He sat on his bed, trying to focus on one thing at a time. He needed to get back to his assignment, left laying on the cluttered desk.   
Taking a deep breath, Chengcheng sat in front of the notebook, and flipped it open to a blank page. Picking up a pen, he started to write, letting out all of his thoughts on the paper, not worrying about how he was writing it, just getting everything out. Every insecurity, every intrusive thought, was now on full display against the stark white paper. It felt good, maybe by putting all of it somewhere else would get rid of it for good. Deep down, he knew that wasn’t true, but anything that would help him feel a little less would have to be good enough.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are much appreciated, loves!
> 
> here's the link to mah sadboi playlist if y'all are interested: https://open.spotify.com/user/lccv0o4unk5vv86k0wxqaf8sy/playlist/1dg6HLVrmT6Zfs1wT0c2hY?si=mh1_0RuyRkyM_B--OKMA9Q


End file.
